


The Case of Catherine Bell

by MaLady335



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Divorce, Gen, Gotham City - Freeform, Human Experimentation, Kidnapping, Medical Experimentation, Metropolis, Missing Persons, No Smut, Parent-Child Relationship, Science Experiments, non-con experimentation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-07-29 20:46:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7698820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaLady335/pseuds/MaLady335
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Private Eye Stacy Jordan takes a case about a missing girl in Metropolis. The case leads her down a road that has her getting caught up in one of Mr Freeze's experiments.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Taking the Case

I spend most of my time in my car. Watching the entrance to a restaurant, hotel or a home. Waiting for that certain someone to leave and move on to the next destination. Having my camera ready in my lap to record their movements and who they are with.

If my suspicions are correct I'll go into the same store and look at items near them to overhear their conversation. It sounds much more exciting than it is and its a lot less glamorous than all the black and white movies tell us. I mean it does have its moments but generally its just a lot of waiting and watching. 

Waiting for a Mrs. Harris to leave her real estate job to see where she goes next isn't exactly what most women my age hope to be doing. It's definitely not what I was wanting. Mrs. Harris bleach blonde head pops out among the other pedestrians as she crosses the road, having a difficult time in her high heels that match with her dark navy suit. 

Having parked half a block away I won't be noticed and I can still see whoever leaves the building. Starting the car I stay at least two cars behind her especially since I know this area really well, it would be hard for me to lose her. At the age of thirty four I thought I would have settled into a stable career instead of the flashy and fun case to case work of a private eye.

She takes a sharp turn that I make but it does make me more suspicious but its the only way to keep an eye on her while she is on this road. I doubt she thinks anyone is following her. 

My car is a little on the older side but is nothing exceptionally beat up or flashy; its never good to have an easily recognizable car. Making sure to keep my distance and stay the speed limit. The easiest way to loss someone is if they get through a light just before it turns. 

Just like Mrs. Harris just did, damn it. I don't believe she will take a turn down one of the next streets since this is mostly business buildings but you can never know for sure. Speeding up just a little above the speed limit after several frustrated moments I see her Benz make a left to head towards the freeway. 

Now that I've got her in my sights again it will be hard for her to loss me on the freeway. Once on the freeway I turn my radio up, if she is heading home it will be about a twenty minute drive if the traffic stays light. 

After about ten minutes she takes an exit, I was easily keeping up with her. We are still in Metropolis but in a more residential area. Not the suburbs but still on the higher end of things. Many of the houses are places me and my ex had dreamed of raising our kids in but money was always tight then. 

Parking into the driveway of a house I don't know I drive past her and park on the side of the road a few houses down. Quickly turning around camera in hand I'm able to take several shots of Mrs. Harris getting out of her car and heading into the house. I also take a picture of the only other car in the driveway before waiting about a half-hour to get out of my car and take a walk around the block making sure to get the address and license plate number.  
Writing it down I get back into my car tilting my rear view mirror so I can glance up and get a good look at her car for when she leaves. Another thing that’s good to take is something like Sudoku or a crossword, something that will occupy your time but not something that could be too absorbing like a book. 

When I had first started out I used to bring books with me and I had lost a few of my tails because I got too interested in the book instead of what they were doing. Taking out my little book of Sudoku I pull out my daughter's photo that I use for a bookmark.

Its quite old it was taken when Richard and I were still together, it was when Gina was about four. Setting the picture on my dashboard I pull out the pencil I keep behind my ear and get to work knowing it was gonna be a long wait.

When the headlights on her car turned on I glanced at my watch, it was a little after eight. Putting my daughter's photo back I waited for her to pass me before starting the car and following her. She took several turns before heading back out onto the freeway. After about ten minutes she took the exit that I knew lead to her home. 

Staying on her to be sure she headed home I stayed some ways back. Since it had gotten dark traffic had died down some. Reaching her neighborhood I watched her pull into her driveway as a small girl came running out of the house to greet her. Passing them by I went back around the block to get back onto the freeway and head home.

Unlike most of my clients I live in a much less desirable part of town. It was about forty five minutes till I reached my section of town and another ten to work my way into the pothole 'street' that barely fit two cars. I pull up into my shitty little garage and climb the stairs to my apartment just above a laundry mat.

I set my stuff down on the little card table I've had since I got the place five years ago. Having never been bothered to get a proper table; its not like I ever get any visitors anymore. Whenever I get parental visitation we just go to the movies or grab a bite to eat. Gina has never seen my apartment and I'm glad for that. The studio apartment I've been held up in since the divorce is small and barely furnished. Most of what I make keeps my actual business going and I spend more time at my office than here anyways so what does it matter that its kind of a shit hole. 

Pulling off my slacks and blouse I slip out of my bra and practically fall into bed I'm so tired. Rolling over I pull on a nightgown before sliding under the covers. No matter what I do I swear I never get enough sleep. Following people for a living tends to make you a little paranoid and I've always had trouble sleeping since I started the job. 

Sleep left as quickly as it came as my alarm screeched at me. Smacking it a few times I sat up my back sore from sleeping in an awkward position. Grabbing a clean set of business casual cloths from my closet I checked my notebook about Mrs. Harris's schedule and it said she would be at her daughter's t-ball game, so it was gonna be a family outing kinda day. 

Taking a quick shower I put up my boring brown hair into a bun deciding to head into the office and see if I have any new possible clients. Living not too far from downtown made getting to my office easier. I may not have the best business building but it is a good location. Plenty of people pass by it every day. The drive over was dull and there wasn't even anything good on the news, not even a sighting of Superman. 

Unlocking the office it was exactly how I had left it, dusty and underused. I used to have a secretary back when I was still married but after the divorce I couldn't afford to keep her. So I let her go and tend to manage all possible clients through a drop box, email, or if I'm able to come in and someone just happens to stumble on in. 

Once I had flipped the sign over to open I grabbed the less than a handful of envelops that had been dropped in my in-box. The comfy old office chair squealed as I pulled it out to sit on it. Using my letter opener I began looking through the papers as my ancient computer booted up. I had brought Gina in here a while back and she had made a comment on how old my computer was as she played on her phone using the latest social media site in order to keep up with her friends from school.

Its strange to look over at her and realize she is fifteen, she is in high school, almost an adult and I've barely gotten to know her. The tone of windows start up drew me out of my depressing thoughts, opening up my email I wasn't surprised to not have anything. 

I tend to get most of my work from the drop box or random people coming in. My eyes drifted down and scanned the three possible cases. Two of which were your average possible adultery case, most of my work comprised of such cases. The third however looked much more interesting. Grabbing my phone I called the number my fingers tapping the desk as it ringed. After the fifth ring a quiet voice answered.

“Hello, is this Mrs. Bell?” I asked

“Yes this is her.” She sounded exhausted.

“Hi my name is Stacy Jordan I'm a private eye and I believe you left a letter concerning your daughter in my drop box.”

“Yes, will you take the case?” Her voice had lifted in excitement.

“Well I would like you to come in so we can discuss that. I'd like to hear what is going on directly from you before I make a decision. Are you able to come in today?” 

“I'll come by right now. I'll be there in twenty minutes.” Before I could even say bye she had hung up she was in such a hurry. 

At the very least she is really desperate to get someone too look into her daughters case. Since I had a little time I grabbed a coffee from the coffee shop around the corner as a pick me up. Taking my time I set out a blank notepad to take notes, I like to have one notepad per case. In the back there is a filing cabinet full of them. She was as quick as she said. I had just finished setting my desk up as she entered the door, or at least who I assumed was her.

“Mrs. Bell?” I walked around my desk and shook her hand. Her hands were thin and felt frail. She didn't look much better, she clearly had money due to her dress suit but she hadn't put any makeup on and a woman of her standing wouldn't be caught dead with her hair looking like that.

“Yes, you said you needed to speak with me?” Her smile looked forced but she sounded hopeful.

“Yeah I wanted to know more about what exactly you and the police are doing about your daughter. Why don't you take a seat.” She sat down setting her designer bag carelessly onto the floor as I joined her on the other side of the desk.

“Well,” she began to wring her hands nervously, “The police believe that Catherine skipped town.”

“Why do they think that?” I can check with a few buddies from the academy after she leaves.

“Several of her cloths and personal things were missing as well as her suitcase.” Jotting it down I made a note to remind me to go talk to my police buddies. 

“And you don't believe she left town?” Glancing up at her Mrs. Bell began to look upset.

“Catherine wouldn't just leave without telling us. She calls us every week and lets us know how school is going, there is no way she wouldn't tell us she would be gone.”

“Does she have a boyfriend?” I asked making note to talk to her husband to see if he agrees with how close they are.

“Yes and he says she hadn't told him anything either. They were suppose to have dinner the day after she went missing. Catherine is very organized she isn't the kind of girl to leave on a last minutes notice, especially with finals coming up.”

“So she was dedicated to school?” Note talk to boyfriend and meet with teachers and other classmates.  
“Yes she only has another year before she is done with her graduate program she wouldn't just leave and miss out on school like that.”

“Alright Mrs. Bell I'll take your daughters case.” Her face beamed with a genuine smile.

“Really you will! Most of the people we've asked said no.”

“Yes but I can't promise any guaranties and I would like to meet with you and your husband at your home later in the week to properly interview you.” She reached over and grabbed my hands between  
hers.

“Yes that’s fine and I can't thank you enough Mrs. Jordan thank you so much.” I didn't correct her, she seemed too happy for me to break it with a petty thing like titles. 

Before she left she gave me all of the contact information she had for Catherine along with the boyfriend and the school. Once she left I sat back down in my chair, looking over my current notes and pulling out my schedule to fit this in with Mr. Harris's case. Calling the school they were kind enough to give me the numbers to Catherine's teachers so I could make an appointment with them and looking over my schedule it was gonna be a busy couple of weeks.

I left my office shortly afterwords. I can't hold any more cases for the moment and I don't have much paperwork to do so I locked it up around five and was hit with the desire to give Gina a call. The thought of missing daughters made me want to check up on her. Calling her the phone rang only two times before she answered.

“Hi mom, what do you want?” She sounded bored and annoyed.

“Oh nothing just thought I would call and see how things are going.” I asked trying to be cheerful.

“Everything’s fine.” Gina answered quickly.

“So school is going alright?” I knew she didn't want to talk to me but I needed to hear from her.

“Yeah school is fine.”

“How are your friends? Did you guys enjoy the beach?”

“We went to the beach over a month ago. But yeah we had a good time.” There was a long pause before Gina said anything else.

“Dad says he doesn't want me talking to you outside of visits so I'll see you in a week ok. Bye mom.”

She hung up before I could say goodbye. Ever since the divorce she has grown more distant and unhappy. I know she blames me for it but I'd rather have that than have her know the truth, but it doesn't make it hurt any less. Feeling disheartened I headed back to my apartment for the first time before ten in well over a month.

Exhausted I sat on my bed my feet digging into the carpet as I watched some TV to try and distract me from the dying relationship I have with my daughter. I take a glance at the kitchen wanting to grab the vodka bottle but I resist knowing it wont make the feeling go away. At best it delays it or it brings out the worst of it.

I had gone to several AA meetings after the divorce since my drinking had skyrocketed, but I stopped going and I feel I have control over it. Yet I like to keep a bottle on hand so I know I always have the option. The television stayed on till around nine when I grew tired of it and decided to curl up in bed even though I wasn't tired. My thoughts drifted to my new case and I couldn't help but hope that Miss Bell had left for a few days otherwise she might be in trouble.

Even in Metropolis it can still get dangerous for a young women. Hopefully she will either come back after a few more days or her boyfriend knows where she went. The last thing anyone wants to here is that their daughter has gotten into some kind of trouble.

End

I won't reveal the main villains till they are introduced I want it to be a surprise.


	2. Interviews

I wasn't able to go in and see the Bells until the next week due to Mrs. Harris's open schedule. But by the end of the week I knew she was having an affair but I still need some more evidence before I can bring it in to her husband. My thoughts returned to Catherine Bell as I take the exit off the freeway into the high end suburbs. 

These houses are three to four stories and some could compete with theaters on size. Each lawn was cut professionally and not a stray toy or chair could be seen as I pulled up to the address Mrs. Bell gave me. 

Their house was extremely nice and huge with windows taller than me and rich rose bushes surrounding the front almost like a wall of thorns. Walking up to the door I wondered what exactly they do for a living to afford a place like this. Rapping my knuckles against the door. The potted plants on either side kept me company while I waited. 

It didn't take long for the door to open. Mrs. Bell greeted me. Her hair done up and she had some makeup on today a sign she was feeling much better. Awkwardly shaking hands again I entered their home. It was immaculate not a pencil was out of place. 

She lead me into the living room asking me to not mind the mess which made me wonder what her definition of a mess was. A man whom I assumed was her husband sat in a comfy looking armchair reading the newspaper. He glanced up as we entered and gave a smile. His teeth perfectly white almost   
matching his thinning hair.

“You must be the detective. My wife and I are so happy you decided to take our case.”

He got up to shake my hand. His hand seemed surprisingly strong for a man of his age and lifestyle.

“Well I'm glad she gave me the opportunity I will do everything in my power to find your daughter.”

Gesturing for me to sit I got comfortable in an armchair while they sat on the couch sitting away from each other but they held hands. Taking a glance at the end table next to me I saw a picture of of Elizabeth in graduation robes. I picked it up and examined her smiling face with her diploma in hand.

“That’s when she got her bachelors degree. She was in the top of her class but she chose to go to school here rather than move away.” Mrs. Bell smiled at the memory while her husband looked a little sad.

“So she's not the type to move around a lot?” Questioning the Bells so far isn't nearly as awkward as I feared.

“No. She has traveled a bit but she always comes back home.” Mrs. Bells voice broke a bit as she finished. Clearly terrified about where her daughter might be.

“When did you last speak to your daughter?” I asked

“It was two weeks ago. On Sunday three days before Doug noticed she was missing. We talked on the phone about the birthday party for my sister.” 

“Did she sound upset or say anything that could indicate that something was wrong?” These are the kind of things relatives can overlook if their not looking for it.

“No. Just the usual. The only news she gave me was that she was working at a new soup kitchen.” Mrs. Bell looked sad like she wished Elizabeth had said something else.

“Does Elizabeth work with a lot of charities?” I was a bit surprised. Most girls raised with this kind of money don't tend to give back to the people below them, especially in person.

“Oh yes. Elizabeth has been doing charity work since middle school. She used to volunteer at the local animal shelter. Our Elizabeth has always loved helping people.” I jotted down a few things in my notebook. The sound of the pen on paper seemed louder than normal in the quiet of the large living room.

“Would you mind giving me a list of all the places she volunteers at?”

“Yes of course.” Mrs. Bell rose from the couch and grabbed the pen and paper from a drawer in the end table and began writing.

“Did Elisabeth have a job?”

Mr. Bell shook his head “No she doesn't have the time between school and volunteer work.”

“Did Elisabeth give you anything before she went missing? Even the smallest thing could be helpful.”

“No she has her own apartment so she doesn't leave stuff here anymore other than her things from high school.” He answered as his wife finished writing down the list of charities. 

The questions died down after that. Mrs. Bell handed out a round of coffee and they proceeded to tell me more about their daughter. They seemed very proud of her and spoke of how polite and kind she was. Once the coffee ran out I excused myself. 

The Bells stood outside their home and waved goodbye as I drove off. I was surprised with how nice and down to earth they were. Most of my clients are very arrogant and assume that the world owes them something not the other way around. It seemed unfair that such caring people should be worrying about the very whereabouts of the only child they had. 

Finished with the Bells I looked at my phone it was around ten thirty. With so much time on my hands I took the scenic route to the university. If someone didn't know any better they would assume that the university was just another district of Metropolis it's so huge. 

The school buses passed me as I entered the university campus keeping an eye out for bikes or mopeds. I graduated with a degree in business so I knew the campus even though it has changed over the past twelve years. The physics building hadn't changed which I was grateful for. 

It had seen some better days but was still very impressive. Physics was never my thing I always preferred biology but I still appreciated it. My phone said it was eleven forty giving me twenty minutes before our scheduled meeting. Heading over to his office I kept an eye out for any possible classmates of Miss Bell. After asking a few students walking the halls I found the professor's office along with two young men sitting outside of his room on some stiff uncomfortable looking chairs.

“Hi I'm Miss Jordan did either of you have class with a Catherine Bell?” They looked at each other before the one on the left spoke.

“Yeah I have class with her. But Jared here spent more time with her since she tutors him. I haven't seen her in class recently is something wrong?” He glanced at Jared who was a small man with mousy brown hair

“When was the last time you guys saw her?” I asked.

Jared spoke first, “Uh about two weeks ago. We meet twice a week on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I saw her on Tuesday but she didn't show up to the library on Thursday. It seemed weird for her to skip out without even texting me or anything.” He seemed to give off rays of awkward. 

“So she didn't give you any kind of warning? And your sure you haven't heard from her since then?” I jotted down to add on to the time-line.

“No she said on Tuesday to work on the equations and that she would see me on Thursday. When she didn't show up the next Tuesday I texted then called her but just got her voice mail.”

“Ok, thanks Jared. So when did you last see her uh...” 

“Derek. I saw her in class on Monday. She answers most of the questions so its really easy to notice if she is not in class.” Derek had dark shaggy hair and was about average weight while Jared was on the thin side.

“Did you ever talk to her?” I asked ready to jot anything down.

“Occasionally. We were part of the same study group since there are less than ten of us in the class you get to know everyone pretty quickly.”

“Did you guys talk at all on Monday? Maybe made plans to study or anything like that.” He shook his head.

“No we didn't make any plans. We talked about the upcoming assignment but that’s it. Has something happened to Kat?” He seemed genuinely worried.

“She has gone missing and her parents have hired me to find her.” A man came around the corner and entered the office giving a nod of hello to each of us. 

“Alright last question. Did she say anything to either of you about leaving town? Or even just talking about a place she is really interested in visiting.” They glanced at each other before shaking their heads.

“No. We just talked a bit about the upcoming paper before we left class. Besides Kat isn't the kind of person to skip out on class. She even came in when she should have been at home sick.” Said Derek.

“Like I said she just reminded me to practice the equations till we meet on Thursday. I agree with Richard she never misses a tutoring session especially without telling me.” I thanked the young men before I preceded to turn and knock on the door of the occupied office.

“Come in.” Came from the professor inside. I opened the door and saw that he was sitting at his desk typing on his computer. There was a large poster of Einstein sticking his tongue out behind him.

“Hello, you must be the detective. I'm Professor Park nice to meet you. Would you like a cup of coffee?” We shook hands across his desk before I took the seat in front of him.

“No thank you I had some earlier. Nice to meet you as well professor. I'm Miss Jordan and I was told that you are the primary teacher for Miss Bell?” He was a man around his fifties whose hair was thinning and starting to turn gray.

“That would be correct. I was helping Miss Bell with her dissertation. It's my job to check over all of her equations along with teaching her in class.” He had stopped typing to put his full attention on me. 

“When did you last see Miss Bell?” I asked.

“Two weeks ago on Monday. She came into my office after class to discuss the parts of her dissertation in detail.”

“Did she call you or anything after that?”

“No, that was the last time I saw her or spoke to her.” Said Dr. Park.

“The two students outside said its not like Catherine to just up and leave. Do you agree?”

“Entirely, Miss Bell was dedicated to her work. She comes into my office several times a week to discuss her dissertation and general school work. She is one of the most dedicated students I've ever had.” I put a few more notes down now having a more concise time-line.

“What time did she come in on Monday?” He turned his head in thought.

“I would say around four, four thirty.”

“Does she have any classes on Tuesday?” I asked finishing jotting down the time they meet.

“Not that I'm aware of. She only has one more year before her evaluation so its mostly just working in the lab on their dissertation for most students. I do believe she does some tutoring though.” I gave a nod in acknowledgment of what he said.

“What is her dissertation on?”

“She is looking into some new possibilities around string theory.” I took a note of that.

“Alright and when she came in did she mention anything about going anywhere? Or meeting anyone. Anything like that?” I asked hoping for something.

The professor shook his head, “No, we mostly discussed her experiment. Though she did mention something about her boyfriend. You might want talk to him.”

“He was next on my list actually. Do you remember exactly what she said?”

“Not really just something about dinner.” 

'Dang it. I already knew about the dinner.'

“Well thank you so much Dr. Park you've been a big help. If you can think of anything else just give me a call.” I handed him one of my cards.

“I will and let me know if you find anything. Miss Bell is one of my favorite students I can't help but worry that something might have happened to her.” After another hand shake I left his office. The two boys were still sitting outside waiting. Glad they were still there I handed them both a card before I forget again.

“You guys just give me a call if you remember anything else.” They gave me a nod before Derek went into the professor's office. Now that I'm done at the school time to meet the boyfriend. 

The walk across the campus was uneventful. It's a nice day out so many students are sitting in grass talking or reading. I found my car easily enough. The address for his apartment wasn't far so I should find it easily enough. Mostly I just hope he is home. 

Once I got back onto the street I made my way off of campus. His apartment was located just outside of campus where most upper graduates are able to find cheap housing close to the school. Parking in front of the building I put some money in the meter before walking up to the door. I looked over the names till I found his at apartment 4 before I gave the button a push. There was a slight buzz sound before I heard the crackle of someone on the other end.

“Hello?”

“Hi I'm Miss Jordan I believe the Bells told you I was coming.”

“Oh just one minute.” A shrill sound informed me the door was open. I went in the lobby which was empty and painted a boring eggshell white. Seeing one and two off the bat I took the stairs. His apartment was at the end of the hall. Giving a knock he opened the door after a few quiet moments.

“Hi, come on in.” He was a small man about 5'6 with dark blonde hair and brown eyes. 

I gave his apartment a quick scan as I entered. It wasn't messy but well lived in. There were things set out on the table and a few random objects on the floor but not unpleasant looking. He sat down at a small dark wooden table. I joined him siting in the chair across from him.

“Would you like anything to drink or eat?” He asked, looking a little sad and nervous.

“No thank you. So your Doug.”

“Yep that’s me.”

“And your Catherine's boyfriend?”

“Yeah. We have been together for a while.” Said Doug.

“How long?”

He gave a thoughtful huff, “Oh almost five years.”

“That’s a long time to still be dating.” Richard and I got married after only three years. Sometimes I wonder if more time would have made us realize we weren't meant for each other.

“I suppose. Kat doesn't want to get married till she is done with school so we only have to wait another year.”

“Would you say you guys have a good relationship?” 

“Yeah. I mean we fight sometimes but every couple does. Its working though the tough times that keep us together.”

“What do you guys fight about?” He paused seemingly uncomfortable with the question.

“Well.... more personal stuff.” It was clear he didn't want to answer.

“Like?....” I asked.

“You see Kat's family is very religious and I'm not so we get into arguments over that. She isn't nearly as bad as her parents but she is still the waiting for marriage type.”

“Oh I see.” Awkward. “Ok, when did you last see Catherine?” I asked attempting to change the subject.

“I saw her on Monday. We were at her place and ordered some Chinese.” He seemed to smile at the memory.

“Did you guys spend a lot of time together?”

“Yeah. We usually spent at least couple of hours a day together. Kat doesn't have much time for friends but she always makes time for me.” That's sweet.

“Did you talk to her at all after that?”

“I called her on Tuesday to check and make sure our plans for dinner were still on and she said they were fine.”

“So that’s when you last spoke to her? What time was it?” I asked taking note in my little book.  
“Um, I'd say it was about eight o'clock at night. She usually goes to bed around ten so I make sure to call her early on in the night. I did call her on Wednesday but I got her voice mail.” 

“And it was Wednesday night you had dinner and noticed she was missing?” Good now I have a definition time-line.

“Yeah our dinner was reserved for eight thirty. She didn't show up so I gave her a few calls and texts but she didn't respond. I hoped that her phone was off which was why I got her voice mail but when it got around ten I got really worried and went to her apartment.”

“And she wasn't there?” I asked wanting him to continue.

“No. She didn't answer the door and her car was missing so I used me key to check inside.” Note ask   
about car.

“What did you find?”

“Well there was a note on the table and I checked her closet and found several of her suitcases missing along with some cloths.” A note?

“She left a note?” I asked puzzled.

“There was a note on the table and it looked like her handwriting.” No one said anything about a note.

“What did it say?”

“Just that she was leaving town for a bit. It didn't say for how long or where she was going.”

“Do you still have it?”

“No the police do. Look I know it looks like she skipped town but it's not like her. Kat wouldn't just leave without letting anyone know. I mean she even calls me to let me know she is visiting her parents for the day.” I'm still very peeved about being lied to but I said I would take the case. I'll talk to the Bells about the note later.

“Do you know who was put on the case?” He shook is head.

“No. You would have to ask the police about that. He just asked a few questions and left.”

“Does Catherine drive her car a lot?” I'll check with the station later today.

“Usually. She uses the bus once she is on campus but she drives to most of her charities since they are all around town.”

“Her parents mentioned she started working at a new place?” I asked prepared to make more notes.

“Yeah. She started at a new soup kitchen by the docks. She also works at an animal shelter and a homeless shelter.” I'll check with them later.

“How often does she work?”

“If there isn't anything big at school she usually works in the afternoon on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. But I believe she started working at the soup kitchen on Tuesdays and Thursdays.” Hopefully the soup kitchen will lead to some promising leads.

“What model is her car?” I asked needing to know.

“Its a blue four door Sedan. I'm not sure which kind though.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“Do you know the license plate?”

He gave a deep inhale as he thought, “Oh I think it starts with a W and a 2 but I never memorized it sorry.” At least its something. I tapped my pen on my notepad trying to think of something else to ask.

“That's alright. Now I need you to try and remember if she gave an indication that she would leave town? Anything she said or did that gave any hint that she might leave?” I emphasized, this being the most important question.

“No. She was like her usual self. Kat was looking forward to our dinner. She didn’t say anything about leaving. Until I saw the note I had no idea about her leaving.” He seemed worried and wrung his hands nervously.

“Well I think that’s it. You've been a big help Doug.”I stood up from the chair. He followed me towards the door. 

“I'm glad to. I just want to know where Kat is. This isn't like her.” I handed him one of my cards.

“If anything jogs your memory let me know, I mean anything. You are so far the last person to talk to her so try and remember anything she might have said that seemed suspicious.” He walked me out of the building and we gave our goodbyes as I got into my car. I gave a heavy sigh. Why didn't they tell me about the note? 

They were probably worried I wouldn't take the case otherwise. Oh well, they already gave me my first payment so I'm on it now. Time to head over to the station, oh joy! I went to the academy with most of these guys and some of them never let me forget I didn't make it to being a cop. This is a visit I'm not looking forward too,


	3. Soups on Me

The drive to the station was uneventful. It was about a forty minutes due to the traffic. Even though its not very far away from the campus, traffic gets horrid the further into the city you get. Metropolis may be one of the safer cities but it is still a city, traffic will always be a problem. The station was right where I had left it. Like most of downtown Metropolis it looked shinny and new. It may be almost a decade old, but it sure doesn't look it.

I parked in the small parking lot that was thankful not full. I've been dreading this visit since I got the case. While I do have several friends here it is still a constant reminder that I didn't become a cop. Most of the guys thought it was strange that I entered the academy. 

Not because I'm a woman but because I was educated and from an educated family. Many of the guys who become cops do it because most of their family are cops or they didn't have much choice. I did it because I wanted to be a detective. When I was in college I fell in love with the old detective movies and wanted to become one but it didn't work out, well that's life.

I greeted the secretary on the way in. She is a bit of a nosy woman but nice enough. The desk I was looking for is owned by a good friend of mine. Hell we even dated for a while way back when. Unfortunately he wasn't at his desk. I attempted to get detective Garcia's attention but I could tell from here he was being yelled at on the phone by a very angry woman in Spanish.

After waving my arms in front of his face I was able to get his attention. He gave me a smile before he lifted his index finger wanting me to wait. Thankfully it only took a few awkward moments of me standing next to his desk while he took quite the tirade. Once the screaming died down he said some things in Spanish before hanging up.

“Trouble with the misses?” I asked

“No, my mother. My brother's and I remodeled her bathroom and she doesn't like it.” He didn't even seem slightly bothered.

“With all that yelling it sounded like she was accusing you of murder.”

“Nah, that's just how she is.” He turned his chair toward me so I now had his full attention. “So what brings you down here?”

“I'm looking for Miller, he in?” Garcia gave a quick look at his phone.

“He is probably down in evidence. You can't go there alone so I'll take you.” I waited till he rose from his chair before we made our way through the bustling office. 

We may have Superman but he can only be in one place at a time so the department is kept plenty busy. It always feels like everyone is angry and in a hurry. Of course that is mostly due to the people arrested and their lawyers. It wasn't too difficult getting to the evidence room. A young most likely new officer sat behind the desk in front of the evidence room. He handed the key to Garcia giving me a suspicious glance.

“Is she suppose to be here?” He asked.

“Don't you worry about her we just need Miller.” Ignoring him we entered evidence. 

It smelled of dust and paper. Boxes lined the shelves all marked with dates and case numbers. It felt rather cool and stale. There were only a few lights and they made the room seem more ominous than it actually was. The sound of shuffling had us passing several shelves till we found Miller sitting on the floor going through a box.

Miller unlike most of his coworkers doesn't look older than he is. Even at the academy he had an optimistic attitude that you could see in his face. His black mop of a head was turned down at the papers not even realizing we were here.

“Hey” Before Garcia could say anything else Miller jumped almost spilling the entire contents of his folder. The surprise was etched onto his face clearly not expecting anyone.

“Hey Garcia. Jordan? What brings you down?” He stood up fixing the jumbled folder.

His tall frame seemed more awkward than anything else as he tried to adjust the contents of the box he was searching through. He placed them back on the shelf. Some of the dust had accumulated on his knees, he brushed it off with his thin and nimble hands as best he could.

“I came to talk to you. I got a new case that is actually interesting and I wanted to get some information.” He gave a shrug.

“Let's go to my desk before I agree to telling you anything.” We exited the tight space. 

The guy at the desk gave us a disapproving look that we ignored. Garcia left Miller and I alone as he headed back to his desk. Miller slumped down into his chair, I pulled another one up from an unoccupied desk nearby.

“So you actually got something besides adultery?” Miller is one of the few people I am still in contact with and he has always been able to boost my spirits.

“Yeah, weird right?” He gave a smile. His age starting to show as his face was wrinkled up in his amusement.

“So what's the case?” He turned and started his computer.

“I've been hired by the Bell's to find their missing daughter Catherine.” Miller nodded letting me know he heard me as he began opening up several files.

“It looks like they believe she skipped town.” I said as the sound of an argument grew behind us as someone just came in ready for processing.

“Her family doesn't believe she left?” He asked as I could see him scrolling through a few documents.

“It says here that she left a note.”

“Everyone I have talked to doesn't believe she would just leave. She is very dedicated to school and her family.” Miller leaned back his chair making a squeak in protest.

“I don't know what to tell you Jordan. It seems a pretty open shut runaway.” I frowned unhappy.

“So you guys don't have anything else.” He shook his head.

“Not here, you could talk to the detective on the case. It looks like its......Ah Stewart.” Well that sounds way less than fun.

I gave a heavy sigh, “Do you know where he is?” Miller knew how much I hated Stewart and gave a quick look around. 

He pointed to several guys sitting handcuffed on a bench. A tall blonde haired man in a nice jacket and slacks seemed to be giving them a talking too. I groaned as I rose out of my seat hating it already. Stewart didn't turn around as I approached. There is more than enough noise to block out my footsteps. I tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around and he must have been expecting someone else cause his blue eyes held surprise.

“Hey Jordan. Long time no see. I didn't even realize you were aloud this far in.” His smugness made me want to punch him in the face.

Stewart took a sip of his coffee ignoring the suspects to give me his full annoying attention.

“Yeah it has been awhile. I was told you were on the case of a missing Catherine Bell?” I wanted this done with as soon as possible. 

“Oh yeah that was several weeks ago. It was pretty obvious that she left town. Why? It's not like you were on the case.” He always rubbed it in my face. 

“Her parents hired me to look into it. Apparently they felt that not enough was done to find their daughter.” That removed his smirk.

“Well she left a note and took several suitcases full of cloths so there really isn't anything else to look at.” 

“Did you talk to her parents or the boyfriend, well anyone for that matter? Because they don't believe she just ran out and after talking to her teacher and classmates I agree.” He gave an annoyed sigh as he rubbed his temples.

“Look we don't have time to look for someone who seemed to leave of their own volition. There wasn't any sigh of struggle in the apartment. The lock and all the windows were intact and even the boyfriend said it was her handwriting. I have much more important things to work on besides a rich brat taking an unscheduled vacation.” He didn't have time? Well that's bullshit. More like being lazy. 

Even at the academy Stewart would always take the easy way out. I didn't even say goodbye as I left him with his suspects and coffee. Miller and Garcia said goodbye but I breezed passed them as I waved to annoyed to deal with anyone. Once in my car I had a chance to breath. No matter how old I get whenever I see Stewart it's like we are back at the academy all over again. I didn't want to linger so I left. 

I was probably speeding but I didn't care. When I reached my office I realized I must have been on autopilot. Well I was here anyway so might as well go in. I kept the sigh as closed. Whenever I'm on several cases I keep the office closed not wanting to add to my workload. Sitting at my desk I peeled off my coat and turned on my computer. 

I began flipping through my notebook as I waited for it to turn on. Opening my documents I put down anything noteworthy. It's best to have several formats of my notes. There have been several people who didn't take kindly to me following them and proceeded to destroy my notebooks.

Once I finished with my documentation I noticed it was night. Suddenly exhausted I debated whether I should go to the soup kitchen now or in the morning. I pulled out Mrs. Harris's notebook and saw her husband and daughter would be out most of the day leaving her alone. Well looks like tonight it is.

I did a quick search before I left, not being all that familiar with the docks. It was around eight when I reached the docks so I hope the soup kitchen is still open, due to the time of day the street lamps were on.

Thankfully I found a decent place to park in a parking garage. I made sure to lock my car knowing this part of town isn't all that safe especially at night. The place seemed like a labyrinth of ocean and crates. A man was leaning against a crate smoking.

“Um hey do you know where the nearest soup kitchen is?” He gave me a strange look before pointing to his left.

“Follow this road and take a left at the rusting truck and then take a right.” If the man having a smoke hadn't pointed me in the right direction I don't know how long I would have wandered. 

The soup kitchen is a little hole in the wall. It was crushed between several garages and looked like it had seen much better days. It seemed strange that a girl like Catherine would chose to spend her time here. The dying line outside let me know it was still open. I passed the homeless people making my way inside.

They gave me some confused looks but didn't say anything. The inside looked in much better condition. There were tables similar to the ones in school cafeterias that were full of people. They gave off a stale unpleasant smell that made me want to leave. My eyes found the end of the line.

Several people behind the sneeze guards handed trays of food to whomever passed them. I walked to them trying to avoid colliding with anyone in the extremely crowded room. There is two young woman and a man probably in his mid thirties to forties.

“Hi, I'm looking for whoever is in charge?” The man glanced up his eyes seemed a bit glazed over.

“Look if someone stole something you can talk to the police or take it outside if they're in here I don't want any trouble.” He gave a huff as he plopped an ice cream scoop full of mashed potatoes on a tray before passing it to the blonde woman.

“No I'm not here for that. I was wondering if you knew a Catherine Bell?” He gave a nod.

“Yeah I know her. She worked here for a few weeks and skipped out. Several other agencies recommended her so I thought she would be steady. Guess I was wrong.” The line began to dwindle down to the entrance of the building.

“That's why I'm here. Look can we talk somewhere else?” He gave a sigh.

“One minute.” He pulled off his gloves as the girl slide down and began picking up his work. “This way.” I followed him to the kitchen. He opened the door and we stepped out with only a small light illuminating the dark alley.

“So what's going on with Katie?” He asked pulling out a cigarette from his pocket.

“She has gone missing so her parent's hired me to look for her.” His cigarette was a little crinkled but it lit easily enough and he began puffing large rings of smoke.

“Why did that bring you here?” The man asked.

“This is the last place she was at before she went missing.” He gave a sigh. “Do you remember anything about her last night here?”

He scratched at his unshaven chin in thought. “Well she got here early like usual. Um things went fine there weren't any fights or anything. The only thing I remember is that when I was locking up she was on the phone. I offered to walk her to her car. This place isn't safe at night but she said she was fine.”

“So that was the last you saw of her?” He nodded.

“Yep. You could probably talk to some of the regulars. Most of them live around here so they might have seen her after that.” I jotted down a few notes.

“Ok could you point them out?” We went back inside and he pointed to a table. I thanked him before I walked over really wanting to head home and sleep.

“Hi.” They all looked up at me with frightened faces. “Don't worry guys I'm not a cop or nothin'. Did any of you see Miss Catherine Bell leave several weeks ago? She has brown hair and green eyes.” One of the men who had an especially shaggy and impressively sized beard spoke up.

“Yeah it was on a Tuesday. Taco night is always my favorite.” I pulled my notebook back out.  
“What did she do?”

“She was talkin' on the phone for a while before she started walking towards the parking garage.”

“Did you notice anything strange?” He glanced down at his hands and didn't look back at me.

“Nope she just left.” I felt a little suspicious and decided to wait till he left to talk to him.

I said goodbye to them and went outside. Not wanting to scare him off I stayed in the shadows as the people began to leave. When he finally exited the building I glanced at my phone to see it was almost midnight. Awesome I love having almost no sleep. When he was a good distance away from the building I approached him.

“Hey!” I startled him as he gave a noticeable jump.

“Look like I said I didn't see nothin' could you please just leave me alone I don't want any trouble.” He raised his hands defensively.

“What kind of trouble?” He opened then closed his mouth deciding against whatever he was gonna say.

“Look Catherine is missing her family is really worried about her. She spent a lot of her time helping people and if you could tell me anything helpful it would ease a lot of people's minds.” His hands shook as his slumped head turned up. 

“There is are some crates down that way. Your looking for number two twenty five.” I gave a confused look.

“What's in it?” He looked scared.

“I've already said to much please leave me be I don't need this kind of trouble.” He then turned and ran. I tried to follow him but he was surprisingly quick for a man in his sixties. 

Having no other option I followed his directions. Sure enough there was a series of cargo crates. I began following them counting down the numbers. When I reached two twenty five it appeared to be padlocked. Looking around I didn't see anyone and pulled out some hairpins.

Twisting them properly I stuck my makeshift lock pick into the key hole on the bottom. After several attempts I felt the lock give way and it clicked as I unlocked it. Sliding the lock pick out I pulled the lock off. The doors creaked loudly as I opened them. 

It was dark so I pulled out my little flashlight. I was greeted with the ends of several cars all piled on top of each other. The one in the middle was especially crushed but it was still obviously blue. I pulled out my notebook and went back to the notes from the boyfriend. The license plate started with a W and a two.

“Well I'll be damned.” Saying to myself as I grasped that I had stumbled onto something big.

I didn't realize they were there till they shut the door. I turned around to have my flashlight knocked out of my hand and a punch to the face. When I hit the metal of the floor I felt a powerful kick to my stomach. It knocked the wind out of me. I didn't even get a chance to stand up before a particularly hard punch to my head had everything go black.


	4. Top Bider

The smell of burlap filled my nostrils as I came to. I groaned turning my head trying to see. The feel of the burlap had me realize I had a bag over my head. My breath picked up in panic. Where am I? What did I get myself into?

My breathing was the only sound as I tried to hold my shit together. I tried to stand up but my hands and feet were tied to the chair. I'm not sure how long I sat there wondering if I was going to die. The air felt stagnant and cold. I tried to slip my hands out of the zip ties with no success. The sound of a door opening filled the silence as several footsteps approached me.

Trying to keep my cool as one of them stopped right in front of me I felt the hand grab the bag before pulling it up and off. The burlap sack scratched at my skin as it was removed. I was blinded by the light the bag had blocked out. Whoever they were walked around me before my eyes adjusted.

His face was disturbing. He gave me a frightening smile with his pointed teeth and missing lips. His skin was extremely pale and there was scar tissue where his nose should have been. He was leaning uncomfortably close to me. After seeing my terrified face he must have been satisfied and stood back up. The light bounced off of his shaved head giving him an even more skeletal appearance.

I was able to hold back my panic except for my heavy breathing. His appearance didn't make me worry till I saw he was missing several fingers. Instinctively I curled my fingers afraid I would lose them. He reached out his hand and a man came out from the shadows and handed him a cigarette. It was disturbing to watch him smoke without any lips.

“Do you know why your here?” A cloud of smoke had accumulated around him. His voice was deep and he pronounced his words strangely.

“I have some idea.” I was thankful I was able to keep my voice steady. 

He was suddenly in my face again. He blew smoke out of his crack of a nose and right into my face. I began to worry that the cigarette would burn my cheek he was so close.

“You have been poking around in my business. And I don't like bogus cops sniffing around.” He pulled out my wallet from a pocket inside of his jacket.

It was surreal to see someone so disfigured dressed so nicely. It looked like the suit was tailored for him. While his face was rather grotesque his body looked like one belonging to a well built man.

“Stacy Jordan, age thirty four born in Metropolis.” He puffed out some more smoke. The man then pulled out my notebook from another pocket. “Looks like you where looking for Catherine Bell, right?” I didn't answer him.

It was written out plainly enough in my notes. He flipped through the pages with the few fingers he had left. The sound of the pages turning seemed loud as no one spoke for several moments.

“Miss Jordan, do you know what kind of business I work in?” I shook my head not wanting to know.

He leaned back towards me again.

“I work in the slave trade. Sure most people get girls from oversees. Their much easier to handle that way. But American girls sell for quite a lot more and it always helps to have some leverage.” He pulled out the picture from my wallet. “How's your daughter Stacy?”

“You leave her out of this.” I was able to keep silent before but the thought of anything happening to Gina. I just couldn't think about it.

“I have a proposition for you.” He tucked my wallet back into his jacket. “You can either take a bullet to the head.” The sound of a gun being cocked rang through the room. “Or you can behave as I sell you to the highest bidder.” Not much of a choice if you ask me.

“Your going to sell me? I doubt you would get much.” He gave a smile.

“Oh you'd be surprised how much these guys would love to get a hold of a cop wannabe. They don't exactly get along with the law if you know what I mean.” He circled around me again clearly enjoying himself. “Do you know where you are Stacy?” I could feel him rest his deformed hands on the back of the chair.

“No.” He came back around to the front.

“Your in Gotham.” The surprise was etched on my face. It made sense now.

“You're Warren White.”

“Oh come now that name is so boring.” His enjoyment of the situation made me want to start struggling but I knew it would get me nowhere. 

“The Great White Shark.” 

“Ah there it is. Do you now realize what you've gotten yourself into?” I kept my head high even as he tries to get to me.

I gave a sigh, “Do you swear to keep her out of this?” His smile broadened as he felt like he had won.  
“I give my word.” I trust that for a second, but what other choice do I have.

“Fine. I'll do it.” He patted me on the head like a dog who had pleased him before turning and leaving the room.

I knew the other men where still there even though I couldn't see them. It didn't take the shark long before he returned. 

“We're ready for you.” He held the door open as one of the men cut my bonds.

I didn't even look at him. Terror twisted my stomach as I walked past White into another dark room. Shutting the door he placed his hand at the small of my back and led me up some steps. Once I was where he wanted me a spotlight lit lighting only me. I turned my face away from the bright light.

“Ladies and gentlemen what we have here is a special treat.” He paused as he came into the light. “A Miss Stacy Jordan. A private eye who had come across our little enterprise.” He smiled at me, his outline and white teeth all I could see before he turned back to whom I believe to be the possible buyers. “We will start the bidding at one hundred thousand.” 

My eyes scanned the room trying to see who was there but there was only darkness. I heard a beep and turned to see a table next to me which held different little machines each marked with a number. One of them was flashing.

“Alright we have one. Do I see one fifty?” I thought about running but I knew I wouldn't make it off the stage.

“one fifty how about two?” There weren't even any windows and I wondered how big the room was. It might have a whole crowd of people.

“two, two fifty anyone?” What will they do to me? I will probably be tortured. Maybe I should have taken the bullet it would be a much quicker death.

“two fifty, oh we have three how about three fifty?” Will Gina think I left her? That I skipped town no longer wanting her like she has always believed.

“three hundred and fifty thousand how about four?” What about the Bells? Will they connect my disappearance to their daughter or think that I am trying to skip out on the case.

“We have four, four fifty anyone?” The beeping was a steady rhythm that started to die down.

My thoughts continued to take panic strides through everyone I knew mostly focusing on Gina.

“Alright we are at seven hundred do I see seven fifty?” I might still have a chance.

I could escape I just need to be smart.

“seven hundred and fifty thousand do we hand eight hundred?” Or they might just shoot me as soon as I leave the building.

“eight hundred anyone?” This was it wasn't it.

“Alright seven fifty going once, going twice. Sold for seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars to 28.” 

Is that how much I'm really worth? Doesn't seem like much. He led me off stage and handed me to one of his men. He took me aside as I heard White introduce another. Looking behind me I could see it was a young girl probably not even seventeen. I was stopped as another bag was placed over my head and my hands were zip tied. I tried to stop myself from crying but I couldn't hold back the panicked breaths. 

He sat me down and he might have left me for all I know. I was left alone still able to hear him yelling out prices. Not sure how much time passed but White had stopped yelling when I was grabbed once again. They led me to what felt like outside as I felt a slight breeze. 

I was then lifted into what I assumed was an SUV or something similar. Two men one on either side sat next to me. No one spoke as we drove. I don't know how far we went and even if I kept track of the turns I didn't know where we started to begin with. I tried to not think, thoughts of torture still danced around my mind. 

We stopped and the man on the right grabbed my arm pulling me out of the vehicle. I was moved into another building since I could no longer feel the breeze. He stopped me and slung a coat around my shoulders. I was confused till we began moving again and the sound of a large door opened too a very cold wind that dried the perspiration on my face. 

We walked a ways till he stopped to open a door and he pushed me inside. He turned me around to cut the zip tie, pull off the bag and take my shoes and coat. Looking at him he was wearing full winter gear. Before I could get a good look at him he slammed the door shut. I heard it lock as I was left alone.


	5. Examination

I stared at the door for several moments as my body processed the sudden temperature change. It was a warm I looked down at my feet confused as to why he took my shoes. My socks kept my feet from being cold on the tiled floor. I turned around to see a small kitchen area. Baffled I began wandering around.

The fridge was full of food which made me wonder if they wanted me to cook. I went to the next room to see a TV and couch with a media rack full of movies. Now I'm really confused. There were two more doors that were closed. One was a small but clean bathroom while the other was a bedroom with a soft looking queen sized bed. I went into the bedroom and began opening drawers to find them filled with cloths.

'Ok now this is just creepy.' I moved to the closet and found even more cloths.

Do they expect me to live here? What would possibly be the benefit of that. I went to the kitchen and sat down at the small table. There wasn't a single window and the only door out was locked. What if they just leave me here? Well I won't starve at least not for a little bit. Why would they spend a 750 thousand dollars on me to set me up in a place nicer than my apartment.

I doubted anyone would have bought me for sex. I'm older than most men like. But that might be the case since I haven't been beaten or harmed at all. I don't think I'm unattractive but I'm in my thirties and most men with that kind of money prefer younger women. Maybe they want me to be like a maid. It seems strange they would spend so much money on someone they could hire legally. Well if they are one of Gotham's super villains it's not like they could hire someone out of the phone book.

However almost a million dollars seems like a lot to buy someone to clean and cook. I sat at the table wondering why I was bought till my ass grew numb. Knocking at the door had me jump. A man came in wearing a winter coat and goggles. He let in a freezing draft that gave me goosebumps.

“The boss wants you to shower before he sees you.” 

The AK dangling in his left hand made me nervous. Not wanting to start anything with the man holding the assault rifle I grabbed a random set of cloths and went to the bathroom. The water grew hot quickly enough and I climbed into the shower. Suddenly hit with a wave of despair I started to cry.

How did I end up here? Is poor Catherine somewhere even worse? I should have listened to that homeless man. What will Gina think? Will Richard tell her I skipped town? Will anyone even think to look in Gotham? I didn't bother keeping my crying silent.

When the water turned cold I decided I couldn't just stay in the shower forever. The outfit I had grabbed was a turtleneck and a pair of slacks. The socks were warm and fuzzy which made me smile. The man standing outside didn't say anything about how long I took or my crying that he most likely heard. He handed me a pair of snow shoes and gave me the coat from before. I grew hot quickly since we were still in the apartment. He grabbed me by the arm and led me to the door. 

Another gust of cold hit my face as we exited. I took the time to look around. There were layers of ice caking the walls and not a single window was in sight. There wasn't any snow but I could see my breath. I blinked rapidly as I could feel my eyes struggle to stay warm. I began to cry as my eyes tried to not freeze. No wonder he is wearing goggles. The space was rather open and I could see several other men with guns wandering about.

Some of the men were walking on the catwalk above us. Others were walking around the giant cylindrical containers that were frozen over. It seemed like we were in a giant freezer. There were small walled off areas but the space was very open and I could see some strange equipment that looked like they had been used recently. 

We stopped at a door on one of the main walls. He opened it to a well lit and warm hospital room. We stepped inside and he took my coat and boots while I was too busy staring at the man in a full body suit. His helmet had frost around the edges and his skin was almost blue. The suit he was wearing was silent but clearly high tech. There was a pack on his back that had tubs leading to his right arm. He seemed unbothered by our presence as he scanned over a clipboard. Briefly he turned and looked at the man who escorted me here and gave a nod. The man then left with my boots and coat in hand so I was alone with who I could only assume to be Mr. Freeze.

“Go behind the screen and change into the gown.”

He didn't look up from his clipboard. His red tinted goggles seemed to emphasis his strange skin tone. Filled with fear I did as he said. I folded the clothes neatly and set them on the counter the gown was on. Leaving the safety of the screen he glanced up at me before returning to the clipboard. 

“Sit on the table.” 

The paper crinkled as I sat on it. He then pulled up a small cart filled with different medical items. He began by taking my blood pressure. My fear began to die down as I pretended I was having a check up. But my doctor needed to be at subzero temperatures and I still had no idea what he wanted with me or why he was examining me. 

He also took a sample of my blood. I had attempted to wrench my arm away from him when he came at me with the needle but a painful squeeze to my wrist had me holding still. He didn't say anything as he went through the basic examination stuff. The sound of his pen and the crinkling paper was the only thing that broke the silence. Once the basic examination was done I thought he would release me.

“Get down we are moving to the next room.” 

Confused and unsure of what else he wanted I hopped off the table. He walked behind me as I walked to the door. Once at the door I grew nervous about whether or not I should open it. When he didn't move I opened the door to an MRI. Why does he need me to have an MRI? I was afraid to ask as he walked me to the machine.

“Lay down and don't move.” 

He went into the other room and started the machine. The table I laid on began moving. It was louder than expected but they always are. I felt the need to sneeze but I held it back as I began to doze. The table moving back jolted me from my brief rest.

He opened the door and led me to another room. This room held another table and giant machine for me to lay on. He grabbed my arm and proceeded to pull a needle out of no where and inject me with it. Once he released me I rubbed my arm before he commanded me to lay down on the machine.

“I will leave to start the CT scan so don't move.” 

He left me laying on the table. Without warning it pulled me into the machine. The noise wasn't as bad as the other machine but I didn't start to go to sleep this time. When the scan was done he returned. He lead me back to the hospital room where he took a swab of my DNA from my mouth and told me to change back into my clothes. Unsure of what to do with myself I sat back on the table. He skimmed over his clip board a few more times before bringing his attention to me.

“Does your family have any history of heart failure?” It was like he was my regular doctor.

His voice was monotone but it didn't make me any less weirded out by the situation.

“Uh, no but my father has high cholesterol.” He jotted down something on the clipboard. “Um, sir? Why am I here?” He ignored my question.

“Any history of diabetes?” 

“No. Uh, why do I need all these tests?” He once again ignored my question. 

I would have gotten angry if I wasn't so afraid that he would freeze me if I rose my voice. 

“What about cancer?”

“Not that I'm aware of.”

“Have you had any children?” My grip on the table tightened.

“Yes I have a daughter.” He jotted down another note and he gave a hum of satisfaction.

“Well Miss Jordan so far all the paperwork matches now we just have to wait to get your tests back.” 

I hopped off the table as the man from before came in holding my coat and boots. Wanting to ask so many questions but scared to anger him I slipped on the boots and coat. Mr. Freeze didn't say anything as we left. The main room was still very cold. He escorted me back to what I assume is my home, sort of. Once again he took my coat and boots before locking me inside. Why does he need all these tests? What could he possibly gain from it? Hell I haven't had a check up in two years, so it was more beneficial for me than anything.

Wait a minute isn't Mr. Freeze a scientist. He could be doing experiments like what I've heard other villains do. Thoughts of how super villains like Scarecrow do their experiments flashed through my mind. I began to panic, what kind of experiments would they be? As I grew more nervous I began pacing the room blind to the space around me.

Images of me being frozen or tortured in a myriad of ways came to mind. I'm not sure how long I paced but my panic had me on the verge of hyperventilating. My legs grew weak and I crumbled to the floor afraid of doing anything. I started to cry as I curled up on the tiled floor. The cool tile felt great against my hot and red face. The idea of becoming so dehydrated I couldn't cry came to mind.

For some reason I found it kind of funny and laughed in between my sobbing. When my chest grew sore and my face felt like it would be permanently puffy I stopped crying. Unsure of what to do with myself I sat up. My mind was blank which was very freeing from the myriad of horrifying images I was being barraged with earlier.

My eyes were heavy due to all of my crying and I did feel very tired and thirsty. Going into the kitchen I pulled out one of the many plastic purple cups and filled it with the cold water I found in the fridge. It was in one of those purifying pitchers. I don't know why but the idea of them buying it so I would have clean water had me give an exhausted laugh. 

The water helped cool my burning throat before I sluggishly went to the bedroom. I pulled off my cloths leaving them at the end of the bed. There were some pajamas in one of the drawers. I slipped it on before cuddling into the soft blankets and pillows. So very tired, glad to have the blissful unawareness of sleep.


	6. The Experiment Begins

As my eyes opened I was unsure of where I was. I felt gross and my eyes and mouth were dry. The white room was foreign as I sat up. My hair felt like a mess and it was plastered to my face. As I scanned the room my surroundings grew more familiar and I fell back into the bed. In a childish attempt to protect myself I pulled the blanket over my head.

At thirty four the idea of a blanket being able to protect me seemed just as legitimate as it did when I was five. I didn't want to get out of bed, if I got out of bed I would have to face the situation and I had no desire to do that. So I dozed, I went in and out of sleep. Dreams blended together with the brief moments of consciousness I allowed myself. 

However as I slept the day away it came to a point where I couldn't sleep any longer. It was all I wanted to do. Annoyed at my inability to sleep I crawled out of bed and went to the bathroom hoping to find some NyQuil or anything that would put me to sleep. Yet when I opened the medicine cabinet it was completely empty. There wasn't even the generic brand of Tylenol. Well there went those plans. Unable to sleep but still not wanting to deal with the situation I crawled back into the comfy bed. I lazied about for an unknown amount of time. There wasn't any clocks so I could have been there for the entire day and not realize it.

Oddly enough I expected someone to come and drag me out of bed. But as I laid there no one came. Hunger and the inevitable boredom drew me out. I half dragged myself to the kitchen and had a bowl of cereal. There was no way I was going to make any real food. The couch looked comfy enough so I curled up on it with my bowl of cereal as I turned on the television. I was quite surprised to see there was cable. Apparently even super villains like to keep up on the latest shows. Flipping through the stations the thought of the Great White Shark sitting excitedly for the latest episode of the Bachelorette had me giggle a little bit.

But what I really wanted, you know besides to not be here, was a drink. I made a scan of the whole place and couldn't find any kind of alcohol. This caused me to grow anxious. There was always a bottle on hand. I kept it as a reminder as well as a possible option. Yet now that the option didn't exist my mind began to fixate on it. My mind began blaring with thoughts full of the desire to drink. The fact that I didn't have it as an option on top of the shit storm I found myself in, it felt like it was all I needed. Just one drink to take the edge off.

But as I tore the place apart hoping someone had kept a secret stash I realized I may never get to drink again. And I found that to be a horrifying thought that really set in my entrapment. I went back to the couch and wanted to cry but I didn't, I'm tired of crying. Even now I expected someone to come get me but they didn't. 

The television became my clock as I realized it was almost midnight. I had slept almost the entire day, but no one came. Would they just leave me here? That seemed kinda silly, kidnapping someone to just take a few tests and lock them in an apartment didn't seem likely. Of course that doesn't mean I am by any means ready to deal with what they actually want me for. Though it would be nice to know why I am here. 

I spent the rest of the evening wallowing. The TV was a decent distraction but my thoughts would eventually drift back to why I was here. I didn't grow tired till around noon. Sleep seemed like a wonderful hobby to take on and it really helped with distracting myself from these depressing thoughts.

When I woke up next the TV said it was about ten o'clock at night. At least it was time for the more interesting shows. I wonder if Gina is watching TV? Does she even know I'm missing yet? Curious I scanned through the stations trying to find the local news. Odd, there isn't any news stations. That's actually really weird. Did they do that on purpose? What could they gain from keeping me misinformed?

Well there goes that plan. I hope Gina is alright, we may not always see eye to eye but I hope she's doing ok. The evening seemed to drag on and I felt even more lonely than before. At least while I was working I could have spent time with people. Here there isn't anything but the TV. How long will I be able to take this solitude?

I really hope this isn't going to be like in that one film Oldboy where they keep a man locked in a room for fifteen years. There is no way I could handle that. Fortunately for me it was only four days. I had been asleep for an unknown amount of time when I was roughly shook awake. I pried my eyes open to see a man wearing the full winter get up hovering over me.

 

“Get up and shower the boss doesn't have time to sit around and wait on you.” 

 

He pulled me out of bed by the arm. I practically ran to the bathroom, as dazed as I was. It was only after I shut the door did I realize I forgot to grab cloths so it was really awkward when I went back out to grab some. This was a quick shower, I was feeling antsy and really hoping to get some answers this time. When I had finished the guy handed me the same boots and coat. As I slipped them on I couldn't help but notice how boring the guy looked. He gave me a slight tap with his gun to get me moving but I made sure to stay in line. The guy wasn't unattractive, he was just rather ordinary. I guess TV has spoiled my idea of what a criminal really looks like and I mean this is Gotham, pretty much villain headquarters USA. 

The walk there was cold and everything looked just as frozen as when I last passed through. Once again we went to the same door which had Mr. Freeze turned away from us scribbling some notes.

 

“You can leave, I can handle it from here.” His voice was just as monotone as before.

 

He didn't even turn around as we came in. The guy once again took my coat and boots. It felt awkward pulling off my boots whenever I entered a room. Stripped of the winter apparel I went and stood awkwardly by the table. Finally he turned around. He glanced up at me, his goggles still that eerie shade of red. It only heightened the unnatural nature of the situation.

 

“If you would change into the gown please”

 

The chart drew his attention as I went behind the screen to change. Once done he motioned for me to sit on the table. I really don't like the weird crinkly noises the paper makes.

 

“Well it looks like the paperwork I had originally received is correct. So you are an almost perfect candidate for testing.”

 

He pulled a small metal table that had a few instruments on it. His gloved hands grabbed the small bottle whose label was quite tiny and a syringe. 

 

“Now I believe we can begin immediately.”

 

The syringe was filled with the clear liquid. He made a grab for my arm but I jerked it away. A scowl crossed his face as he tried again. After the third time he grabbed me quite painfully and pulled me closer to him.

 

“Now Miss Jordan, this is no way to behave. You may not be aware that I don't need you conscious for these tests. I could very easily put you into a chemical coma that you may never wake from. The only reason you are not is because it's much easier for me to learn your response from the treatment when you are aware. Now if you like I can put you in the coma and you will be unaware of what I am doing but you may never wake up. Or you can go through the treatment awake and active so we can both be through this as quickly as possible.” He didn't yell or raise his voice at all. In fact it went lower, to a frighteningly deep tone.

 

His grip was extremely painful and his warning was very frightening. I gave a nod not wanting to be placed in a coma. The syringe enters my arm as I feel the liquid enter my veins. Dread followed the liquids trail through my body as Mr. Freeze finished up his notes. 

I felt almost cheated. When I was returned to my apartments I expected to keel over in pain, to start throwing up, or something. Yet nothing had happened. Mr. Freeze had taken a quick check of my vitals after the shot to make sure I didn't have any unexpected side effects before sending me on my way. If someone had told me a month ago that I was going to be someone's test subject I would never had thought it would be like this.

I haven't been molested beyond the tests, my rooms are bigger than some of the apartments I've lived in before and my captors have been surprisingly hospitable. So why can't I stop this feeling of dread? If this isn't as bad as it could be why am I so depressed? It made me feel ashamed, I shouldn't be so unhappy when so many others are suffering worse. Who knows what poor Catherine Bell is going through.

The thought of her brought her back to my thoughts for the first time in days. That poor girl, I was hired to find her to only get taken like she was. Except not like her, she is young and beautiful, and that is enough for people to decide that she was property. Well now I'm property too, that poor girl is probably being treated like a dog while I'm being treated like a lab rat. Which of us is worse off?

The question kept me from sleeping for a while, that is till I cried myself to sleep. I shouldn't be this weak, I'm a private eye, I went through the same training as most police officers I should be stronger than this. These thoughts didn't motivate me to do anything other than to be more ashamed of my lack of a will to fight or escape. My depression deepened and I continued to sleep most of my days away with random spurts of TV at random hours of the day.

The injections became routine, about once or twice a week I would be taken into the lab where he would give me an injection and test my vitals while asking me about any changes. After what I could guess was the first month the injections didn't frighten me anymore. I actually looked forward to them since that was the only time I got to interact with another person. Even if they were encased in a giant metal suit.

The days seemed to drag on forever and the lack of company didn't help. The only other human contact I had was with whichever goon came to pick me up for my appointments and whoever came in to refill my stocks of food and grab my mounds of dirty cloths. They were surprisingly polite but unwilling to have any real conversation which didn't help my loneliness.

As the months dragged on my depression grew worse as movement and just the ability to stay awake became worse. Within three months the guard that came to pick me up for my injections. He had to drag and half carry me too the lab. As I was forced to lean against the strange man I found the contact pathetically pleasant. The facility was, as always extremely cold. My eyes stinging every time I exited my apartments. As we entered the lab he removed my boots and coat for me before setting me on the table, as though I were a child incapable of the act. I would have been infuriated if I wasn’t too busy hating myself for my weakness.

Through each visit Mr. Freeze had always been relatively quiet and unforthcoming with any information as to what his experiment was and what exactly I was being injected with. As I sat on the crinkly paper and told him how I was feeling for the first time without being in one of those ridiculous gowns I could tell that what I told him was important. I didn't hide my depression and inability to do anything from him. I wanted him to know how much I hated being here and what it was doing too me. He bent his head down to write a few notes on my chart.

 

“It looks as though things are progressing well,” His voice was monotone but I swear I saw a facial twitch, “Due to the progression of your disease you will be moved to the lab quarters to better accommodate you.” What? I stared at him for several seconds as what his words implied slowly dawned on me.

 

A mixture of rage and horror flooded me all at once as I attempted to strike him without thinking. He didn't attempt to stop me, instead he just took a slight step to the side as my weakened body was lacking in mobility. I started to cry in my rage as I tried to stand up to not feel my legs respond to my commands very well and I almost collapsed to the ground. If it wasn't for Mr. Freeze's hand grabbing my arm to gently allow me to get focused on standing.

Why didn't I see it? It makes so much sense now, it was all him. I wasn't just depressed, whatever he was injecting me with did this. His attempt to assist me was spitefully ignored as I stayed limp in his grasp, my rage and humiliation consuming my thoughts. The tears kept coming, how I hated them almost as much as I hated him.

Without a word he picked me up effortlessly and carried me through the lab to areas I had never seen before. There was a room dedicated entirely too a giant tube filled with liquid and a floating woman who appeared to be asleep. The glass was thick and I could see a guard walk by in the room on the other side. My fury distracted me from really taking in who that was as we passed through a few more rooms till we reached what looked like a hospital room. He gently set me on the bed as he lifted my arm and began measuring it's thickness.

 

“What are you doing to me?” I thought I was going to scream it out, but it was barely a whisper.

 

His hands paused for a moment before returning to measuring the muscle on my arms and legs.

 

“I have given you my wife's degenerative disease. you are losing the ability to control your body until you lose your life. Once you are bedridden we can get to the real experiment.” I wasn't sure how to respond to that.

 

“Why?” Why me, why now, why are you doing this?

 

He finished measuring my muscles before answering, his pace never wavering. 

 

“Because I have too, if I want my wife to live.” With that he left me, the door clicked with a lock.

 

My mind couldn't, wouldn't process what he said, what it meant. My rage still filled my chest, the first real thing I've felt since I got here. Refusing to acknowledge what he said I slowly stood focusing entirely on my rage filled task at hand. I walked around the bed focusing on my objective, a small shelf filled with who knows what. When I finally reached it I grasped it's sides, partially leaning on it and attempted to throw it over. I wanted him to see how angry I was. I needed a physical manifestation of my justified rage.

But I couldn't throw it over, I got it up on two of it's four legs before my strength failed me. This shouldn't be so hard, the shelf barely reached my hips. Another attempt caused my legs to collapse beneath me. I wailed in despair as I pounded on the blasted shelf. Not only have I failed to find Catherine, I can't even lift a small shelf anymore. Self hatred filled me with a multitude of emotions that had me vomit as the implications of what Mr. Freeze told me punched me in the face. Even with the best escape plan, I could never walk out of here, possibly never even walk again.


End file.
